Book Two

Werewolf Genocide

1. WAKING UP

A young man was running through the woods. The trees rushed past him and fear was gripped tightly around his heart. He could hear pounding footsteps behind him, too many. The only thought in his mind was to survive.

Micah could smell the wet grass and dank earth when he awoke. He had had the same dream that had been haunting him for a while now. His eyes opened to see greenery right in front of his face. His body felt stiff and sore and then chilled as a cold morning breeze rolled over him. He looked down to see that he was naked.

"Not again…" he muttered. This had happened a few times before. He would find himself naked in the middle of nowhere with no recollection of what had transpired the night before, some strange sort of black out. It would come in sets of three: three nights in a row, once a month, for the past two months.

Micah picked himself up and tried to get his bearings. Everything looked the same in every direction. Then Micah listened. For some reason his hearing had improved recently. He was able to hear things that he couldn't before. He picked up the sound of flowing water and headed towards it. Hearing was not the only improvement he experienced; all his other senses had been magnified as well.

Things started to change when Micah was out late one night. He had been drinking at a local pub in London when he was there on business and on his way home he was bitten by a large dog. Micah was sick for three days after that and the doctor thought that it was due to rabies. He had been in a cold sweat but felt like he was burning up at the same time. It was agonizing for him and everyone was sure that he would die. But after three days the symptoms stopped and he suddenly seemed healthy again. Even healthier than before. That is when the dreams started, when the senses improved, and when the blackouts started to occur. The strangest thing about his physical change, however, was that his eyes had turned to an icy blue. They had been brown before. The doctor didn't know what to make of it but told Micah to thank the Lord that he had survived at all.

Micah found a flowing stream and followed it. He knew it would lead him back to town. He came to the edge of the forest and peeked through some bushes to see Main Street already filled with men going to work and horses pulling carriages along. How on earth would Micah be able to get home without everyone seeing him naked?

Suddenly Micah heard a rustle of leaves behind him and he spun around. Standing tall above his crouched body a man stood dressed in a black robe and a black hat. The peculiar thing about this man was that his face was completely covered by a metal mask. The mask had sharp angular edges that made him look intimidating.

Micah's eyes widened in surprise and asked "Who are you? What do you want?"

The stranger spoke through the mask. "My name is Absolom. I'm here to help you. Now get dressed." He tossed down a shirt and some pants and Micah quickly put them on.

Micah appreciated the clothes but really didn't want anything to do with this peculiar man. "Thanks, but I really need to get going."

"Not so fast," said Absolom. "We need to talk, privately. We'll go to your place."

Micah put up his hands in defense. "Look, I don't know what you're into but I'm not interested. I've got to go." He turned around and started to walk through the bushes into the street when Absolom spoke.

"Do you ever wonder why you wake up naked in the middle of nowhere? Do you ever wonder why your eyes turned blue?" Absolom waited for a response.

Micah turned around and eyed the man suspiciously. "How do you know these things about me?"

"You and I are not so different. I can answer all your questions, but you need to trust me. Now take me to your home."

Micah obeyed his order. He thought that perhaps if this man knew about Micah's problems then he might be able to find a way to fix them. They stepped out onto Main Street and then headed down a narrower street that would lead to Micah's apartment. He had been living on his own in the city trying to make something of himself. He came from a family of farmers but wanted to get away and become a successful big shot business man. Things were not going the way he had imagined but he wasn't ready to give up just yet.

They found their way into a slum neighborhood, it was Micah's neighborhood. They went up a flight of stairs and Micah opened the door to his tiny apartment. The place was pretty bare with a mattress on the floor and a small kitchen table. Micah sat down at the table and motioned towards the other chair as an offering to Absolom. He sat down and looked out the window next to the table.

"So…" Micah started. "What do you want to tell me?"

"What do you want to know?"

Micah laughed. "Well, let's see. How about why is all this happening to me?"

"You were bit by a werewolf, son. When you suffered in sickness for three days that was the werewolf's venom working its way through your body changing you forever." Absolom paused.

Micah furrowed his brow and tried to determine if he was joking. Then he started laughing. "Right. Good one."

"I'm serious. That is why your eyes have changed color. You body has undergone an intensive change. Haven't you heard that eyes are the windows to the soul?"

"Sure, but I think you're either pulling my leg or you're just crazy." Micah stood up from his chair. "I think it's time for you to leave, sir."

Absolom did not move. After a moment of awkward silence, Micah sat back down. Absolom continued. "You senses have improved. Sight, smell, sound, everything really. This is all part of the change. Three nights out of every month, you black out as soon as the sun sets because your body has to go through an intense change during the full moon. Your bones crack and break as they become larger and arrange themselves differently. Hair pushes through your skin until you are completely covered in fur. Then you go out and hunt all night. In the morning you awake and find yourself naked and in a place that you don't remember how you got there."

"How do you know all this?" Micah asked astonished.

"Because I, too, am a werewolf," Absolom replied.

"Don't you black out as well?" Micah questioned.

"Yes."

"Then how do you know what happens after you black out?" The skepticism returned to Micah's voice.

Absolom sighed under the mask. "I had a friend who was a scientist. He locked me up for observation and wrote everything down in his journals. He told me about the transformation that would take place when I lost consciousness."

"What happened to him?" Micah wondered.

Absolom adjusted uncomfortably in his seat. "I killed him." The answer took Micah back. Was he dealing with a psychopathic murderer?

"You see, my boy," Absolom continued, "As a werewolf you cannot help but to kill ones that are close to you. You've been lucky though, living in the city. There is no one close to you here, is there?" Absolom asked the question like he already knew the answer.

Ignoring his question, Micah asked one of his own. "Do you really expect me to believe all this? I think you've been hitting the pubs a little too hard. Maybe you should go home and sleep it off-"

Absolom pounded the table with his fist. "Damn it boy, won't you listen to me? You can't go on living like this on your own. You need to join us, there are others like us and together we can be better, we can find a way to be safer."

"Safe from what? If I'm a werewolf then I'm pretty sure that puts me at the top of the food chain." Micah was getting tired of this crazy man.

After a moment of silence, Absolom lifted his hands to his mask. He pulled at the edges and then removed it so that the face underneath was revealed. Micah let out a sickening gasp. He looked like a man in his early forties but this is not what made Micah sick. The skin from the edges of his mouth to his ears looked as if it had been torn and then mangled back together. It was red and scarred and was a frightening sight to behold.

Absolom spoke but his jaw looked wrong moving the way it did. "There are creatures in this world far worse than us, my boy. A few centuries ago there was a vampire named Octavian. He had a special ability where he could control animals and make them serve to protect him and his coven. There was a great war where an Italian coven, the Volturi, fought to overthrow them. When Octavian had used all his resources and had all the regular animals in Romania killed, he moved onto us, the werewolves.

"Because we are half beast, we were subject to his will, partially. He forced us into a war that had nothing to do with us. One of the vampires grabbed hold of my jaw and ripped it out. In the morning, when I had returned to being a human, I nearly died. We are much weaker in our human form. Another man who shares the same curse went and found my jaw and did the best he could to reattach it." Absolom traced his fingers along his hideous scars.

"Wait a minute," Micah interjected. "You said that this war was centuries ago."

"Yes, and?" Absolom answered, not seeing the dilemma.

"And you look pretty good for a dead guy." Micah raised his eyebrows, questioningly.

"Oh, that." Absolom said, realizing that what was common knowledge to him was not so common to Micah. "Once you become a werewolf you stop aging, but we are not immortal. In our human state, we can be killed quite easily."

Micah sighed. "How can you possibly expect me to believe all this?"

"Tonight, you will accompany me into the woods. I will show you, and then you will believe."